


Jock

by John_Q_Sample



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: But Not Mild Enough To Actually Be Gen, F/F, Hockey, Injury, It Is Rather Mild With The Shipping, Nurses, chatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Q_Sample/pseuds/John_Q_Sample
Summary: Me: Just having a blast listening to some groovy tunes before going to bed.Brain: Webby meets Gosalyn when she comes into the nurse's office after being her jock self and getting really hurt during the game. If you don't write this within the next two hours, there WILL be consequences.





	Jock

Webby trails behind her family as the scene unfolds. Donald is frantically ushering a mildly injured Dewey to the doctor's office of the ice rink—while Dewey loudly protests that it's simply a sprained ankle and  _not_ any reason for such panic.

The overprotective uncle can't be calmed by Dewey's protests, though. Luckily, the doctor is familiar with panicked parents and is able to assure him that, yes, this is just a sprained ankle, and no, there isn't any reason to panic.

Webby waits with the other two triplets as the doctor wraps Dewey's ankle with bandages. Growing bored, Webby strolls towards the desk and begins looking through the available pamphlets, which discuss things like how to check if someone has a concussion and basic first aid—things Webby's familiar with due to her past adventures.

Then the door bursts open. A duck with a hockey player hanging over his shoulders runs into the room. Blood drips from her beak, and her right leg just doesn't look right.

The sudden entrance draws the attention of everyone in the room. Webby gravitates towards Dewey just in time to hear him whisper in an awed tone, "Gosalyn Mallard...!"

The doctor helps Gosalyn to the other bed in the room and begins immediately working to stopping the bleeding on her beak.

Leaning in, Webby asks, "Who's that?"

Dewey turns, looking almost offended that she even had to ask. "Only St. Canard's best hockey player!"

"'S'right I am," she slurs.

The doctor and the older duck, presumably her father, frantically shushes her.

"I'm going to patch up your beak and make sure you don't have a concussion, but you'll need to go to another doctor to get an X-ray on that leg...I'm pretty sure it's broken. In multiple places."

"Not a concussion," Gosalyn argues. "Had one of those before. Totally different."

"You should be more careful," her father mutters.

"Whatever happened to 'let's get dangerous'?"

“That’s an _expression_ ,” he hisses, his voice hushed.

Webby glances at the family members she came into the building with. Donald is still fussing over Dewey at the table, and the other two siblings are around him. They seem willing to wait for a bit.

“So what happened?” Webby asks.

“Uh, basically a major wipeout on the rink, except that a lot of people crashed into me, and they had a lot of sticks that they were swinging.”

“Try not to talk so much,” the nurse says. “We’re going to patch up your beak.”

Gosalyn tightens her beak into a frown as the nurse begins to dress crack in her beak.

Webby glances over at the other duck. He’s older, and obviously tired. He’s wearing a sweater over a T-shirt for the St. Canard hockey team. He doesn’t look anything like Gosalyn, but they seem like quite the perfect father-and-daughter pair.

“Hi, I’m Webby,” she says to the duck.

“Oh, hi. I’m Drake Mallard.”

They shake hands. They both have rather poor handshakes.

“The game was really cool,” Webby points out, “or what I saw of it. I’m here with them.” She points towards her family.

“The enemy team,” Gosalyn says, causing the nurse to jump back.

“Gosalyn, let the nurse do her work,” Drake says.

Gosalyn glares and rolls her eyes. The nurse finishes bandaging up her beak, then moves on to the various other injuries she sustained. Even after watching Dewey play hockey for about a year, Webby doesn’t get how someone can get so many injuries from one hockey match.

For whatever reason, Webby just wants to _talk_ to the hockey player. Be her friend, something. But she doesn’t really know how to do it. With the triplets, it was mostly just that she _happened_ upon them and stuck together. Maybe this would be the same. She’s just not sure how to say what she wants—or what she wants, for that matter.

“Do you always get this hurt from hockey games?”

“If she did, I wouldn’t let her play.”

“I always give 110%,” Gosalyn responds to fulfill the official jock cliche. “And that’s how St. Canard keeps kicking Duckburg’s butt all the time.”

Webby changes the subject before Dewey can catch wind of the conversation and start an argument. “Are you okay, though?”

“Oh, yeah, once I get back out on the ice.”

“That might take a few months, all things considered,” the nurse points out.

Gosalyn huffs. “Guess I have to renew my friendship with the good ol’ PT. Again.”

“I wouldn’t recommend walking on this. At all. Even if it isn’t a broken leg...well, and that would surprise me, but still.”

Drake nods to Gosalyn. “I’ll go get the car and bring it up to the front door.”

He walks out of the room, and Gosalyn watches him go. Then relaxes a bit.

“Wish he wouldn’t freak out so much when that happens,” Gosalyn says.

“I think he’s just worried about you.”

“Like he’s any more careful! He—” Gosalyn stands down. “...does a lot of adventure stuff, you know.”

“Oh, your family, too?”

Webby practically leaps out of her skin when Donald taps her on the shoulder.

“We’re going to go out to the parking lot,” Donald says.

“Um...can I wait with Gosalyn until her dad comes back? It’ll just be a few seconds.”

With a nod, Donald leads the twins out of the nurse’s office. As he leaves, Dewey turns back towards her and winks while holding up an “OK” sign. Webby feels like she might die right there.

“Okay," Gosalyn says, calling her attention back to the nurse's office, "so what does ‘your family, too?’ mean?”

“My—uh, actually, my granny works at Scrooge McDuck’s house.”

Gosalyn wheezes. “No way!”

“What about your dad?”

“Oh, he’s just...Drake Mallard. Um, a true outdoorsman. You know.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

The nurse, returning to her work, smiles privately to herself at the conversation.

“I think he just freaks out too much about it.”

“You broke your leg.”

“Yeah, well.”

“I don’t know how you crack your beak in hockey,” Webby points out.

“Actually, it’s really easy,” Gosalyn responds. “Especially if you’re playing rough, which is my favorite way to play...And if stupid Tanker Muddlefoot wasn’t making fun of me ‘fore the game, I wouldn’t have been all pissed while I was playing, you know!”

“Want me to fight him for you?”

Gosalyn bursts into laughter. “I think I could handle him, but thanks.”

“I could pull a spy move on him or something,” Webby points out. “I don’t even know who this kid is.”

“Some people have all the luck!” Gosalyn pats her on the back. “Seriously, though, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Webby begins nervously fiddling with her friendship bracelet.

Just when she’s about to say something, Drake comes in and moves over to help Gosalyn. He offers a vague thanks towards Webby before rushing out of the room.

And that’s that.

Feeling somehow disappointed, Webby heads out of the room, towards the front of the building where Donald sits parked in his car. Ah, damn.

Then she sees a beat-up station wagon with Gosalyn frantically waving out the backseat window.

“You come here often?!” she calls.

Webby rushes towards the car. “Any time Duckburg has a game, I'm here.”

Gosalyn taps her chin. “That’s, like, a little too long. Do you have a cell phone? We could hang out before then.”

Webby can see Gosalyn’s father is protesting in the front seat—yet not leaving!—so she frantically exchanges numbers as quickly as possible.

While waving excitedly towards the station wagon speeding off, Webby heads back towards Donald’s car, nearly runs right into it, and stumbles into the backseat.

As Donald begins to drive off, Webby notices the triplets, even Dewey from the front seat, staring at her.

"What?" she asks.

"You got Gosalyn Mallard's phone number," Dewey says.

Webby pinches her friendship bracelet. "Yeah?"

"Ooooooooh!" comes simultaneously from all three triplets.

" _Boys_ ," Donald warns.

"We just want to talk later," Webby points out.

"Uh-huh..."

Webby's phone buzzes, and she darts for it to respond.

Gosalyn: Hi :)

Gosalyn: Dad says I'm not allowed to look at screens tho hang on

Webby covers her face. Oh boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Launchpad would be in this except right now I don't feel like dealing with the "which universe is he in" thing.


End file.
